


A little more conversation, a little less action please

by stjarna



Series: Season 4 - Coda Challenge [17]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: A little bit serious, Additional Scene, And then a little bit fluffier towards the end, Coda, Coda Challenge, Coda Challenge @The FitzSimmons Network, F/M, Missing Scene, Post S04E11 "Wake Up", Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 01:30:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9469472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Written for The "Season 4, Episode 11 - Wake Up" Coda Challenge organized by The Fitzsimmons Network on Tumblr.The upside of having a girlfriend is you have someone to talk to about what's bothering you. Takes place some time after Fitz & Radcliffe's final scene together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Play on the Elvis Presley song "A little less conversation"

He opens the door quietly. Despite being a mundane and simple task, it takes effort.

He’s tired. Mentally and physically exhausted.

He had brought Coulson and Mace up to speed, in as far as he even knew what was going on himself. Radcliffe’s LMD was locked up in a vault next to AIDA’s severed head. Coulson had ordered to let the matter be for the night. They all needed rest before heading back into battle. Battle. Fitz hated the word and yet it seemed to come up more and more the longer he worked for S.H.I.E.L.D.

He’s tired. So tired.

She sits on the edge of the bed, facing the door, her hands resting in her lap. She smiles when he walks in.

But he can’t. He can’t bring himself to smile right now. Not even for her.

“You didn’t have to wait up,” he says quietly and closes the door.

“I wanted to,” she replies softly, the hint of a smile still lingering on her lips.

His gaze wanders to the floor. He blinks like in a daze, barely noticing that she gets up.

“You okay?” she whispers.

“Not really,” Fitz replies and looks at her, shaking his head. “I shot him in the head!” He shrugs. “Could’ve shot him anywhere. Stomach. Arm. Leg.”

“It was an android, Fitz,” Jemma replies calmly, taking a step closer. “It didn’t matter.”

“Yes,” he shakes his head in disagreement. “Yes, it matters, Jemma. Because… because I was only about ninety-eight percent sure I was right.” He shrugs his shoulders. “But I didn’t care about those two percent.”

He clenches his jaw as his breathing quickens. He jabs the empty space in front of him with his index finger. “I shot him in the bloody head, because I wanted him _dead_ ,” he growls through his teeth. “ _Him!_ **_Radcliffe!_** ”

He throws one hand in the air.  “I wanted to have the satisfaction of once… just _once_ being able to do it! I couldn’t with Ward. I couldn’t. I stopped myself. And I—”

“Don’t, Fitz, please,” she interrupts him, walking closer until she stands in front of him.

Fitz crosses his arms in front of his chest. He digs his fingers into his biceps, trying to let the physical pain overpower some of the pain he feels inside.

“I know you’re hurt,” Jemma says, placing one hand on his arm. It makes him relax. Just a little. Not enough.

“I _know_ you’re hurt,” she repeats, gazing into his eyes. “But don’t let this—revenge, hate, anger—don’t let that become a part of yourself.”

Her thumb gently strokes his arm, and he notices her lips trembling, trying to fight back tears. “Because … because the desire to go after Ward, to _kill_ him, ate me up and I was _mad_ at myself for not achieving that, for not killing him, and _you_ …”

She gently squeezes his arm. “ _You_ told me that we’re better than him and I didn’t think I was.” She shrugs. “I didn’t think I _wanted_ to be better than him anymore.” She smiles shyly. “But you _made_ me want to be.”

She lets out a shaky breath. “And maybe part of you wanted to kill Radcliffe and all you had was his LMD and a two percent chance that _maybe_ it was really him, but… please, Fitz, let that be enough. Shooting an android. Let that be enough. _Please_.” Her shimmery eyes plead with him.

He presses his lips together and nods, before taking a deep breath and allowing his lips to mouth a silent “I will.”

She smiles at him, her hand reaching for his cheek, and the simple touch threatens to break his façade. He bites his lower lip, blinking away tears, as her thumb caresses his cheekbone.

“Why me, Jemma?” he sobs quietly. “Why? … Donnie. Ward. Even Mack. Now Radcliffe.” He inhales to steady his voice. “Why is it so easy for them? To lie to me? Manipulate me? Use me? Betray me?” His voice grows colder with every word.

She tilts her head, her hand still resting on his cheek. “Because you’re a good person,” she replies, the corners of her mouth turning into a brief, sad smile.

Fitz scoffs. “Yeah. What good does it do?” he mumbles, disheartened.

She lets out a single quiet laugh. “Oh Fitz,” she says, her eyes beaming at him with a happiness he doesn’t understand. “You have _no_ idea.”

She laughs again. “Looking at you, _every_ day. Seeing how even in the darkest of times, you… you keep your humanity, your _trust_ in humanity. You treat people with kindness and respect. Even… even androids.”

She pauses, gazing into his eyes. “You didn’t let AIDA down. You believed that she was innocent and you were _right_! You’re a _good_ person and it’s what makes me not give up on this world myself.”

He feels the corner of his mouth twitch involuntarily.

“I’m not the innocent, naïve and bright-eyed person I was five years ago, Fitz,” Jemma continues. “And there were moments when I _wanted_ to let my dark side win. _Kill_ Ward, _kill_ Hive.”

She shrugs, rubbing her forehead. “God, I thought the Inhuman outbreak was a _plague_ that needed to be eradicated.” She points at herself. “I was no better than _Nadeer_. But _you_ ,” her hand reaches for his cheek again. “ _You_ remind me that there _is_ good, that there are things worth fighting for. You make me want to do better, _be_ better.”

Fitz feels his body trembling, trying to fight back tears.

“So what now?” he asks quietly, shrugging his shoulder.

Jemma smiles at him warmly. “Now we figure out what Radcliffe is up to and _where_ he is and we take him down and we take _Nadeer_ down and … and we work _together_.”

She takes a deep breath. “I should have listened to you. You _asked_ for my help with your investigation and I… I didn’t listen. I was mad. Jealous. I thought your only concern was for AIDA. That you were—”

“Obsessed with her,” Fitz observes.

“Yes,” she admits.

“I didn’t want to repair her,” Fitz remarks, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to rebuild her. I just wanted—”

“To know what broke her,” Jemma finishes his sentence.

“Yes.”

“I know,” she says, apologetically. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen.”

Fitz takes a deep breath. “What about the other thing?” he asks nervously, searching her eyes.

She shakes her head. “What other thing?”

“I kept things from you,” he explains. “I _lied_ to you. AIDA. My investigation. _Twice_.”

“You had good reason,” she replies calmly.

“Did I?” he asks. “Because I _thought_ I did, but _now_ …” He pulls up his shoulders. “I don’t know.” He holds his hands out in front of himself. “There’s _two_ sides to this coin and I don’t know which one was right or if there even is a right or wrong or just—”

“Two sides,” she agrees. “There _are_ two sides. No right or wrong.”

He looks at her as his heart hammers against his ribcage.

“I’m scared, Jemma,” he admits, barely able to control his breathing. “And I’m sorry.” He swallows, feeling his jaw tense up again, his eyes being drowned in tears. “I… I broke our trust,” he confesses, his hands trembling. “And you… Do you still trust me? _Can_ you trust me?”

He looks at her, his eyes pleading for an answer.

“Of course!” she replies quietly. She steps closer to him and cups his face. “Of _course_ I trust you, Fitz. I _want_ to trust you!”

A weak smile appears on her lips. “I’m not saying our relationship will be the same as before. I’m not saying it’ll all be rainbows and sunshine from here on out—”

Fitz scoffs briefly, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “When was the last time we had rainbows and sunshine in our lives?”

She chuckles, before her gentle eyes look at him again more seriously. “We have to work on things. We have to do… _this_ ,” she says, gesturing between them. “ _Communicate_. _Talk_.”

She pauses. “I stand by what I said: the upside of having a girlfriend is that you have someone to talk to about what’s bothering you. We have to _talk_. Be _open_.”

She takes a slow breath. “And that goes _both_ ways,” she continues. “Because _I_ wasn’t honest with you either.”

She shakes her head ever so slightly. “I didn’t tell you _why_ I was jealous of AIDA, not really. I didn’t… _we_ didn’t talk. But if we do,” she continues, sighing in relief, “if we _finally_ make that a part of our relationship then… then it won’t be the _same_ as before, it will be better, _stronger_. It will be… in a way it will be closer to what we had before… before everything.”

She shrugs. “I mean… remember how we were at the Academy? At Sci-Ops?”

“Before I admitted that—”

“Yes,” she pauses. “Not that you’re to blame. No one’s to blame. There _is_ no blame. _You_ admitting what you felt for me was… it was _right_ , but nonetheless that’s when we started to—” She wrinkles her forehead in thought. “After that, we were _both_ so afraid of being as honest as we had been _before_ because our relationship had changed so fundamentally and we… we weren’t used to that. That was new territory for us. It _still_ is! But, _God_!” She lets her head drop back slightly and shakes it, before smiling back at him.

“Fitz, I love you!” She cups his face, and intuitively, he places his hands on her wrists. “I _love_ you and it took me _ten_ years to realize that and to admit that and… I’m not losing that. _Ever_. I don’t want to… I don’t even want to _think_ about that as an option because… it’s not. It’s _not_ an option. I’m not losing what we have. On the contrary. I will do _everything_ to make us stronger.”

She pauses and he feels her anxious breath against his lips. “I will work on bringing the _honesty_ and the _trust_ that we had back when we had no care in the world and combine it with the _love_ and _intimacy_ and _maturity_ that we have now. Because...” She falls silent, gazing into his eyes, and he notices how hers are welling up, while a smile still plays on her lips. “Because you’re _it_ , Fitz. You’re _it_ and I…I will—”

He kisses her. Her lips are soft and warm and taste like home.

“ _We_ will,” he whispers when he breaks the kiss. “ _We_ will make that happen. _Both_ of us. _Together_.”

She chuckles, her fingers absentmindedly combing through his hair, curling around his neck. “That would certainly be preferable.”

He cups her face and leans down to kiss her again. A little softer. A little warmer. A little longer. He lets his forehead rest against hers, keeping his eyes closed.

“I love you, Jemma,” he whispers against her lips. “And I will never lie to you again. I will never keep things from you again. _Never!_ Classified or not. I _won’t_. I promise you!”

He opens his eyes and waits for her to look back at him.

“I promise the same,” she replies quietly.

He moves his head further back, but keeps her face in his hands.

“And I’ll talk,” he promises and he notices that he’s finally able to smile again, laugh again. “I’ll stop being such a quiet, reclusive bum and I’ll _talk_ ,” he adds. “I’ll be _honest_. I’ll _communicate_. There’ll come a day when you’re gonna _wish_ I would shut up and—”

She laughs and kisses him. “Like _now_ ,” she jokes. “I wish you would shut up _now_.”

He chuckles and wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. “What about communication?” he asks almost teasingly.

She tilts her head slightly to one side, her eyes beaming with happiness. “We’ve made _excellent_ progress in that regard today,” she says, tickling the back of his neck with her thumbs. “And I _know_ we’ll make a lot more progress in that regard from here on out, but maybe for tonight, we can be done talking.”

“What else do you suggest we do then?” he inquires mischievously.

“Well,” she says, her lips twitching suggestively, “one _could_ argue that talking isn’t the _only_ form of communication between two people.”

She brings her body closer to his, and Fitz feels his body temperature rise. “In _fact_ ,” she adds, her voice huskier than usual, “I know from _experience_ that your hands and lips are _exceptionally_ capable communicators.”

“My lips?” he asks, unable to suppress a grin. He withdraws one hand from her waist to point at his lips. “The ones I _talk_ with?”

She laughs out loud, resting her head against his chest for a moment, before looking back at him. “You’re _insufferable_!”

He chuckles, before taking a slow breath. “Okay,” he says, allowing his face, his body to relax. “I just have to say _one_ more thing.”  
  
“What’s that?” she asks, rolling her eyes.

He pulls her closer, gazing down at her, her lips, her nose, her eyes, the love he sees in them. He smiles, taking her in, letting it sink in, everything _she_ had said, everything _they_ had said. And then he leans closer, capturing her mouth with his, softly, gently, until his tongue slowly glides across her lips.

And she welcomes him, eagerly, passionately. He wraps his arms around her tighter, trying to erase any space between them. His hands reach for her blouse, pulling it out of her trousers, his fingers slide underneath the fabric, glide across her naked back.

“You’re right,” he whispers against her lips. “My hands and lips _are_ exceptionally capable communicators.”

**Author's Note:**

> For those who wish to read a slightly higher-rated continuation of this scene... check out ["Okay... Maybe just a little bit of action"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9506057)
> 
> Can I just add that I'm still amazed how close-ish parts of this convo came to canon (with Jemma reassuring Fitz that even though he's been betrayed it's a good thing that remained such a good person)?


End file.
